Tangled In The Great Escape
by Lightning And Blossoms
Summary: After her death, Alex had to grow up quickly in situations he never imagined he'd be involved in, before. Being with the Pleasures wasn't miserable as such; it gave him an opportunity at normality - but that was getting more complicated as the months and months passed, when he's haunted by his past as well as chased by it. Ignorance can only be bliss for so long...
1. Prologue

**Tangled In The Great Escape**

_**Note: this is written after Scorpia Rising. It will likely contain triggering situations in future chapters (but I've decided to make this easier - I will mention all the triggers I've kept track of at the beginning of each chapter, please stay safe). **_

**Prologue**

The Pleasures fell into a silent agreement to carry on as individually as they could up in the air, under the belief that their freshly adopted fifteen year old had fallen asleep. The distant silence omitted from him since greetings was fathomable, and linked to the idea and fact that Alex Rider was exhausted.

The boy hardly blinked an eye once he positioned himself on the plane and attempted to pulled earphones out of his small backpack, like the task was needed the motivation from shaky hands. If the situation wasn't so morbid, Sabina would've shown clear amusement at the abrupt irritation that was almost childish on the features of his face when one small earbud was stuck in his backpack. Everybody on that plane could've emphasised with the pain of abnormally tangled earphones.

Sabina Pleasure didn't even pretend that she wasn't watching Alex. However confusing her emotions were, she was overwhelmed with the urge to hug her friend's unease away. That's why she was surprised when after five minutes of watching his face stare at the seat in front of him, he closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. She proceeded to prepare for sleep just as the plane started it's routine departure of the airport land. Despite the wary glance she could feel her mum giving her ('is he normally a quick and heavy sleeper?'), she sighed and pulled a blanket up to her chin.

She didn't need Alex falling asleep, rather uncharacteristically, during the rocky and loud flight off the ground, to know something had snapped and was going to be very difficult to heal.

She couldn't tell you how long it took for her eyes to start drooping and her heart rate to slow, but she could recite lyrics of the one song that Alex had decided to listen on repeat, loud enough for her to hear it's muffles in the seat next to his. Eventually, the lyric '_I never meant to hurt you, no no no no, I only meant to do this to myself...'_***** practically whispered in her mind as she fell asleep.

* * *

When Alex woke up, he could feel a choked gasp at the back of his throat that got caught. It took longer than he liked to admit, trying to comprehend his surroundings. The music in both his earphones was blocking his opportunity to hearing the constant and common humming sounds of the plane. The fact that he was only asleep for around three hours had heightened the grogginess, only making the touch of something holding his left arm more sinister than he knew it was.

Because logically he understood that Sabina had huddled her feet onto her seat and rested against him, grasping his arm as comfort - he recognised that before he even remembered that he was on a _plane_.

Alex wasn't sure if it was the familiarity of music that had kept him peacefully asleep for so long or not, but he wasn't tempted to test the theory. Both his ears were starting to get slightly warm, and overall informed him that he had earphones in for too long - he could imagine the relief of fresh air that would be revealed if he took them out... But that was the first time Alex slept _fairly_ well in a while. He refused to deal with trying to comprehend his memories because for that moment, they didn't feel _real_, just more like a raw nightmare. It was easier than he'd like to question, to suppress his feelings, just to get by, and that's why he didn't have a nightmare.

He couldn't even pinpoint if he even had a dream or twitched in his sleep.

Alone by a window on the second storey of his new 'home' about 20 hours later, Alex had flinched.

Rationally he knew it should be unlikely that he'd be sniped again: his business with MI6 had come to a closure - and any previous 'villains' that was against him either had contracts with MI6, out of business or... dead.

Of all the irony of the past two years, Alex was almost _amused_ at his obliviousness - how he spent two hours under his covers in the dark, squeezing his eyes shut, tempted to pray for sleep to slap him. The oblivious part? The fact that he believed he could hide in the sleep he already wasted. When his body fell asleep on the plane - rather greedily, he felt - it resulted that however exhausted the boy remained, his mind used it up as an excuse to not letting him sleep _now_. He was slightly concerned about the possibility of gaining insomnia, as he could imagine the restless nights... crawling at every memory and haunting repercussions of his past.

Alex couldn't find it within himself to feel emotions, and be overwhelmed by it, just yet. But he wasn't ignorant to believe that he wouldn't snap eventually. Just before Jones had allowed him an exit, she gathered an MI6 doctor to evaluate him quickly. He could still hear the doctor's voice, stating that _'his detached state of being - do you feel numb, Alex? - is what's blocking his mind from comprehending what happened, and showing potential instigation of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder symptoms... It could very well mean that technically his body is in a state of 'denial'... producing what we call 'depersonalisation.' With my understanding of the boy currently experiencing puberty, with his age being 15 - it will complicate his recovery and process overall, as it is a prime development time... I'm worried that mixed in with his past, he's exposed to the likely-hood of depression and anxiety -'_

He could feel the cold from the door opening before he heard the feminine voice call, "are you awake?"

Sabina walked into the room, and in the vague light from the open window and small lights from the technology in the room, he watched as she smiled softly and wrapped her chest with her hands, slightly shivering. "I think, actually, the question is - _why_ are you awake, Alex?"

Before Alex could even bother coming up with an excuse, she added, "_I_ can't sleep because I practically slept the whole plane ride - oh I don't know how I managed it... But you slept less than the average I know us teenagers need. Shouldn't you be like... unconscious on the carpet by sleep deprivation?"

Alex switched the bedroom light on and rolled his eyes. Unlike Alex, Sabina's eyes weren't adjusted to sudden brightness and she groaned, rubbing her face.

The first week in their house continued similarly. Alex stopped sleeping 'well', and was too tired to bother confronting the problem. It felt minimal in comparison to other pressing matters. It seemed like the routine had calmed Alex down slightly, and if this sleep deprivation was _preventing_ nightmares and everything to comeback and start _haunting_ him, he'd prefer to continue procrastinating that stage.

Every evening at 6pm, the family would attempt to have a family dinner together. It was obvious to Alex that they hadn't done anything formal like that (regularly, at least) prior to his arrival, but... that hardly mattered, anyway. They involved him in conversations, but restrained from being too extroverted and expecting him to talk much. Alex had a feeling that if it wasn't obvious by his demeanour that he was not necessarily 'well' and was vaguely incoherent from fatigue, Sabina would've warned them.

Sometimes, it really did require too much energy to communicate.

Every night they allowed Edward Pleasure to choose a rented movie, because apparently he was the best at choosing comedies. There was a strange pressure in his whole fibre in his body - it wasn't directly physical pain, but wouldn't let him relax during the whole comedy. The movies worked as a slight distraction every few minutes, but after the second night, Alex caved in and tried to explain the restlessness to Sabina.

Every night at 9pm, The Pleasure Parents would go to bed. From Alex's understanding - the pair use the time to do something productive for an hour before sleep. Edward reads articles or writes notes for some other news or something that sparks his interest. Besides him would lay his wife, seemingly onto a new book each month. It was the first morning of Alex's arrival when he was alone with Elizabeth, having been caught looking for cups in the kitchen, dehydrated. She was sitting at the benchtop waiting for her tea to be ready, with The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger sitting upright. When she was reading it, she barely acknowledged Alex, despite a quick small.

Alex would use this time to escape into his bedroom (which he suspected used to be an abandoned spare room occupied by just a singe-sized-bed, that collected dust before him). Sabina would've vanished into the room opposite his hallway (her own bedroom; the one closest to the upsides bathroom - which was the only bathroom in the house with a shower) to complete the homework she should've completed days _prior_.

During that week, Alex rapidly got attached to his earphones, like never before. At any opportunity he got, he was listening to music. On the second night, at 11:50pm, Sabina returned to his room, and found him like she caught him the first night he arrived: sitting on the windowsill, window open and only one earphone in. This time, she could clearly hear the words from the door way - '_I know you're tortured within, your eyes look hungry again, but I'll never wander, my friend...'*****_ From what Sabina could tell, Alex had formed a personal commitment to that particular song that week, but she wasn't going to question him about it - because she understood he emotionally needed the support from whatever the words were telling him.

And so, every night after midnight, they'd crawl into bed and just stare at the ceiling, sharing earphones - the same song, until they fell asleep. Since the reunion, neither teenager had discussed their past status - Sabina gradually developed a sibling nature of caring for Alex, and Alex didn't think about his feelings. Though he _could_ feel that he wasn't ready for considering a relationship. His feelings connected to Sabina in the past was just connected to all the crap he had to pull through, and with it, it had exploded in his heart, leaving shreds of detached _memories_. Mutually, they agreed that they felt and suited the ideology of friends, more comfortably. Despite all the morally-questionable actions Alex had raided in the past - he wasn't fond of 'incest' even if biologically, the Pleasures and him weren't bloodlines.

The 15 year old would lay awake in the night, trying to suppress overthinking habits. At around 2 in the morning, he'd finally leave Sabina in his bed and have a warm shower, falling asleep wrapped in a towel (after putting on underwear) in the locked bathroom, on the carpet. This habit occurred after the third night in the house, and originally, Alex had awoke with something restricting his throat and a shaky heart beat. It only took a second to gather his surroundings, and despite the separated numbness he relished in since... _her_... the urge to cry and turn into a baby arose. He could only hope, in that second, that he didn't sleep _too_ long in the bathroom - _Did they find me? Do they know? What will they think of me; a stranger they basically had to adopt, sleeping like this in their sanctuary?_

As it seems, Alex's mind couldn't escape in the peace of a dreamless state for just as long as his body couldn't handle the environment he'd collapse in. So after about 50 minutes of bathroom-slumber, he'd wake up and clean up the bathroom (re-arranging everything to make it look untouched, and then he'd put his pyjamas on. Alex could hardly handle looking at himself in the mirror, with his bullet-scar so prompt; he doubted the Pleasures would appreciate seeing it... _if_ they just so happened to be wondering the house at 3 oclock in the morning).

In the early freeze of the fourth morning, Alex was biting on the back of his palm, taking in his new home, trying to... understand, to come to grips, and grasp onto _something_. When he walked into the living room, he was only half-surprised when Edward was sitting on the couch, the light off his phone illuminating his face. Before he could attempt to disappear and pretend he saw nothing, he vaguely saw in the night-light Edward's face turn to him - and he was confirmed that he was smiling, when he didn't get lectured for being awake so early.

Gratefully, his adopted-father didn't question his actions, and that's when Alex was enlightened of _what was going on_. Obviously, the Pleasure family had been informed of Alex's history and Alex appreciated that they treated him as normally as they _could_. Knowing their family, Alex doubted that he could get away with too many things in the future - if this was under different circumstances, Edward probably would've gotten flustered and told Alex to go to bed immediately at this 'insane hour of the night.'

It made sense to Alex, that Edward's sleeping pattern was disturbed due to jet lag. With slight prompt from Alex, he began explaining that Alex had medically about a month clearance before it's accepted that he can return to his education (on the account of trauma, health and grief). Due to the aid of MI6 (Alex suspected Jone's guilt) he was already enrolled into Sabina's high school. Somehow, without negotiation with Alex, Jones had decided he should repeat Year 10 (sophomore)** and Alex wouldn't admit it, but he secretly understood why that was an efficient way to slide back into the academic lifestyle.

Edward watched as Alex abruptly silenced when he explained that for this first week, Sabina was allowed a week-off school. This was around the only times in that first month, that Edward witnessed Alex without earphones in.

When he first reunited with Alex, the heartbreak was prominent on him - and he hardly attempted to utter a word, and heaven forbid, repeat himself. Slowly, Edward was beginning to see the symptoms that the MI6 doctor had described to Alex. Alex was suppressing his burdens through music and being distant - but he was clearly trying to stay sane and do something to keep him afloat; talking and roughly laughing more recently than from the first day. The father briefly tried to understand how the fragile being in front of him was able to compose himself, sitting there so late in the night, without doing anything to distract himself.

That's when he stood up and using the light of his mobile, opened a drawer from under the television. In there was all the books that his wife had read and needed to put somewhere. Just as he was attempting to go into his phone's settings to turn the brightness up to see the books easier, Alex eagerly stood up. Edward imagined that Alex had half-smiled at his surprised-jump, when the boy suddenly sat besides his legs and grabbed the single book that was flat on top of the horizontally piled books in the back row. _Cookbook_.

On first sight, most of Elizabeth's collection was mystery-fiction, with one cookbook and classic novel (The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald). Edward left Alex staring at the cover of the cookbook that he first picked up - and went back into bed with his wife, smiling more peacefully. Hope was strong that night for him - he could see the potential in his adopted child, and he was aware of the intelligence of Alex. He was shortly wondering what he'll need to do to keep Alex fighting for, before he drifted back into sleep.

* * *

_**Author's Note:** hello you lovely individual! I'm proud of you, for reading this right now - because I know I rambled on pretty long in this chapter, to get to this point, I'm sorry. __This prologue, I see, is more of a filler chapter, because I needed to create the setting and initial characterisation to start this fanfiction._

_I know my history record on this site tends to be leaning more on the side of leaving chaptered fics unfinished but... when I first arrived on this site it was about four years ago and I was a little child (please go easy on my writing, by the way - I know it's not the best, but I'm trying to improve. I need time to get back into my style of writing because I haven't written in nearly a year). And I'm saying all this because I also wanted to admit that I still have plans to finish about half of my unfinished fics, still - it's not the same plan and motivation like I had when I originally posted them, but I can see potential. And if I start from there, maybe I'll get my writing mojo back?_

_I started this prologue at about 3 in the morning when I couldn't sleep. and I honestly couldn't go to sleep with the sudden inspiration to write a full-blown-out-story after so long arose in my imagination... __Basically, I evolved the story into these general ideas:_

_- I've read a lot of fanfiction where the Pleasure's 'weren't good enough' for him or he ran away (and yeah, those stories are great, some of them even inspired me to write this, thanks) but I wanted to write my own ideas - maybe it's possible that it could've gone a completely different direction? Maybe Alex was so distraught after Jacks's death __(you're not alone kid, weren't we all...) that he depended on things like the affection or 'normality' of the Pleasures to keep going? _

_- what would happen if Alex decided to stay with the Pleasures? So the first few chapters of this story is intended to be Alex's first year with them, reaching his 16th birthday, having gone a 'normal-ish' year with the Pleasures: going to school and focusing on education again, maybe therapy (guys I've not thought too much on the details to be honest)... _

_- but I only want to briefly cover that. Soon after, Alex is going to be roped into uncomfortable situations, slightly common to the lives and dramas of attending high school; and suddenly - something drastic happens that turns Alex back to the protection of spies. I absolutely adore fanfiction with k-Unit but I want to romanticise the idea of what would happen if Alex was under the protection of MI6 agents he didn't know? (and maybe, just maybe I'll try and rope in K-Unit some how - like I've said, I've honestly not planned out exact time lines and details for this story- I'm used to just writing how I feel at the time)._

_- and a lot of stuff happens, but that's the general plan of what I'm aiming for, right now. _

_- Did you really think I was going to spoil the whole plot line for you?_

**_I'd appreciate it if you lovelies reviewed, and let me know your thoughts on this - polite criticism and opinions (a compliment would be lovely - but I prefer the truth) I respect - __I've missed the familiarity of writing stories and getting back into my fandoms here. Fanfiction has become such a part of my life and past - I hope you guys are doing well x_**

_P.S._

_* - both were lyrics from the Pierce The Veil song Tangled In The Great Escape (which was also the title of this fanfiction)._

_** - It's been about two years since I've last read Scorpia Rising so... I don't remember exact details such as what year Alex was in at school, but for the sake of my fic, I'll just assume it's year ten - sophomores (I think the universal connection there is accurate? I'm not too sure what year sophomores are...) _


	2. Chapter One: Discomposure

**_Warnings: Language, reference to Character Death, Depressive Thoughts, Panic Attack symptoms, Self Harm references. _**

**Chapter One: ****Discomposure**

Alex was irritated.

Maybe he should have felt privileged that they decided it would be safe to leave him alone, but he knew better. Or at least, he preferred to believe in the rationality of his paranoia; it was too familiar - _of course_ the therapist was trying a new angle. In a normal situation, he'd trust Ms. Young and due to believing she was treating him as a normal individual as an equal to her (allowing him freedom), he'd even enjoy the sessions more. However, he couldn't ignore the fact that Ms. Young was _recruited_ to San Francisco***** for his specific circumstances, by _them_.

He _didn't_ believe that she was some rogue hit woman whose somehow gained a personal agenda against him... but there was _something_ about therapy that he didn't enjoy, and he felt like she realised that.

She didn't verbally seem to force him to do or say anything, but the whole thing felt like a mind game and he was too tired to try and stay ahead. He needed an MI6 therapist because rationally, he understood that he couldn't spill the beans about the world to some unprepared soul in this profession across the street from him. What irritated him was about how she subtly handled the situation - because of course she'd know that he knows, that she knows about him, _his past_ - and yet she's letting him go through _all this_ explaining, still managing to confuse and fluster himself. It's condescending.

The fact that she had to fly overseas as her job to help him, a stranger, was annoying, like Alex was _that pitiful_. He's just barely accepting the Pleasure's attempts at comforting him, because he needs to know he's in safe hands of _somebody who genuinely cares_. Not some older authorial figure 'who knows best' to get him to open up about things that he honestly just wanted to _move on_ from. As childish as Alex was feeling, he comprehended that he did need the help.

So he attended... _every_... _single_... _session_... so far, and without complaining to the Pleasures about it. He _needed_ the assistance to find some ground under his feet: he didn't want to think about strategies _on his own_.

Thinking about strategies alone meant that he had to analyse the past and situation.

That wasn't an option.

Yet, it didn't _surprise_ him, when he had to wake up at 7o'clock each morning for the third week of attending counselling that morning - as much as on the first, second, third and forth day he had to. Since the MI6 doctor from before he left England, had rambled on with 'possible diagnoses' and 'high warnings' he was _waiting_ for the day MI6 would contact Edward Pleasure. A semi-rouge, used-to-be-top agent with all the secrets and high probability of mental instability, was a risk factor that the British Intelligence wouldn't want to bother gambling.

It seemed like the world had frozen for a little while, originally. Alex had a first week of almost out of his mind, insomniac week of nothing-much-happened when he arrived to the Pleasures' House.

The second week at their house was where reality settled in, a little bit. Alex was left alone whilst Sabina returned to high school and the parents focused on their responsibilities. Desperate, Alex looked back at the drawer Edward shown him nights earlier. He found that Elizabeth _had_ kept a small collection of science fiction novels, at least three of them he could handle.

Reading and music had allowed Alex to slacken a little; in the day he taught himself how to cook new things, and would spark up conversation about it at the dinner table. Talking still took energy, it required Alex _to want_ to try and motivate himself to feel real, in present conversations. Yet it was easy to start the topic, and then just listen to them continuing it. The ambitions and charisma from the Pleasures by this action had convinced Alex that perhaps he could be _okay_, that this care and support _is_ what family is about.

He didn't let himself think any further than that. He didn't even let himself be doubtful like he had the first week, because his goal was forward, _keep moving forward_. He didn't _allow_ himself a second to think, or breathe it in, because _then_ he knew he wouldn't be able to get back up again.

So, when Edward announced a special phone call, mid-second week, Alex's composure almost crumbled. Almost.

Despite not feeling 'up to' attending therapy and dealing with _anything_, he wasn't _surprised_. First, he had to attend a brief check up on Thursday, and then have the first 'introductory' session on that Friday - afterwards, his sessions were scheduled for every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8am for two hours.

Despite attending six sessions already, he was still hesitate to dive into any form of 'intense venting or opening up old wounds with salt.'

When Alex had settled down in the second week with the Pleasures, his sleep pattern slightly changed again - it was what created the domino effect of him attempting to consume proper meals again (even though his appetite didn't return _yet_), and with nutrients back in his blood, he accepted the idea of _recovery_. The idea seemed like utopia.

Routine remained more or less similar. Sabina was still entering his room to check up on him before midnight, and they'd listen to music (after the first week, the song Tangled In The Great Escape felt too raw for him, so he let Sabina shuffle through his songs) until they fell asleep. He respected the fact that she never once complained about his music. But perhaps she enjoyed it; he was too hesitate to question it. Instead of heading out of bed at two in the morning to eventually collapse semi-naked (also with a towel as blanket) in the bathroom, Alex manages to fall asleep next to her around one o'clock, waking up two hours later. Then he'd give himself a warm shower, and continue his reading.

He never got too attached to reading in the past (despite Ian's attempts), but the way he relied on it so many silent nights, he understood the attachment and world that readers enjoyed, _now_. He'd stay up reading the book until he'd end up falling asleep on the couch (usually around five or six in the morning).

By 8am, he'd be woken up by Sabina, who was getting ready to leave for school, or by Elizabeth who was getting ready for work. That would mean the boy would manage an overall of no more than five hours sleep (and no less than two). It was vaguely an improvement from the prior week, but his body seemed to protest at the delusional concept.

When he attended his first therapy session that week, the therapist wouldn't get him talking much about _personal_ topics - and it concluded with him falling asleep, whilst she called Edward to pick him up ten minutes earlier than the session was over.

So, _of course,_ the next session Alex had to explain _why_ he was so exhausted. The therapist seemed to recognise that he was trying to cooperate, and agreed to take it slowly. Instead of working in-depth on sleep, for example (because Alex was adamant that he wasn't going to change any time soon - to which he couldn't exactly figure out why he was behaving like that) she provided him with prescription to sleeping medication, _'for the time being'_. If it wasn't for the fact that Alex was really, _desperately trying_ to want to recover from _everything_, he would have given into the just arguing - ignoring Sabina's attempts to assisting him - to forget it all and get everybody _off his case_. But every night, before she'd enter his room, she'd practically stuff a pill down his throat.

And he _wouldn't_ complain.

Being spring in April, Alex could see the light from the sun very strongly behind the shutters in the room, mocking his brain that just wanted to shut off into the dark comfort of _sleep_. He sat on the couch, silently waiting for his therapist to return (something about a quick morning errand - maybe she just needed to gather coffee before dealing with this teenager).

The smell of perfume alerted Alex that she had returned around the corner, and seconds later, she became visible through the doorway again. Regardless of his 'spying experiences', he was caught off guard when she held coffee in her hands, but they were in _two_ cups - he took one.

Condescending feeling: she was pretending to stifle through whatever paperwork she needed on her desk, not looking at Alex- but he felt she knew, that he _hesitated_. A stranger was _offering_ him a drink (one he didn't ask for)...

But Alex hadn't consumed coffee in so many _months_, the smell was too 'homely' to resist.

With a slow sigh, Ms. Young finally sat in the chair in front of him. As usual, she held a notepad and pen in front of her. Alex was curious as to what would happen if he asked her to help him, with her own training, without needing to _record_ everything he says. He knew she probably wouldn't listen, but it'd be a dream - he rationalised that it could even be beneficial, because _without_ the concept of her job just writing down his replies, he'd be more inclined to talk to her about something. Have her full, genuine _attention_.

The moment Alex took another drink from his mug, she wrote down something and asked, "how're you feeling today, Alex?"

"Like usual," Alex replied easily, after swallowing the coffee, gratefully.

She smiled softly, but refrained from moving her pen, "I'm not quite sure what that means?"

_Yes. You do. It's not like it's the first time you asked..._ "Tired, somewhat placid-"

Once Alex confirmed that Sabina was still helping him with his sleep medication, and _no_, he still didn't have any nightmares. It didn't make sense to Alex; after his missions he used to remember all of his dreams, nightmares or not - and so far it's been a month anniversary...

"So does that mean you're still reading?"

Alex nodded, suddenly feeling cold, despite the hot mug in his hands.

The therapist was on a completely different universe than _his_ mind - asking questions about the book, but... the different conversation still wasn't much of a distraction. The sudden revelation that it's been literally _32 days_ since _the_ day, struck him regretfully... Alex was willing to talk about _some_ things - he needed somebody with experience in this field, and the _training_ to understand and work through it - help him out of the labyrinth...

But there was no way he was going to talk about _it_.

No. He didn't even want to _think_ about it.

Using the hot liquid of coffee as an attempt to 'wake' himself out of his brooding, he wondered how Ms. Young didn't notice. Or why she didn't interrogate him on it.

Slowly, he realised she was psycho-analysing his progress on his opinions of the book (City of Bones, by Cassandra Clare): why he chose this book to read, what he thought of it - what he thought was going to happen - why - what was his favourite character, why defend him? - 'do you see yourself as any of the characters Alex?'

'Do you think maybe it's because you subconsciously hope to be like the story in this book? Or a character, to take away what you feel like now?'

Personally, Alex could fathom what Ms. Young was trying to do- but the problem was that Alex _wasn't_ reading to 'understand' himself. He was reading because _wanted_ to do something, and it was enjoyable. Reading is a _hobby_ to buy time until Alex would inevitably be hit with responsibilities again... and it was a bonus that it allowed him to be distracted _from_ his past and reality.

"Have you already decided what book you'll be reading next?"

Alex couldn't figure out if Ms. Young had something against books, or if she was expecting too much from him. For the first time between the two, it was the therapist who was over-thinking everything. She probably imagined that he was drowning his sorrows in each book - jumping from one to another 'without giving himself time to digest it.'

_"I literally don't have anything to do back at the Pleasure's house - I'm not in school yet; I need to waste time somehow - otherwise I'd fuck myself over and then _your_ job would be harder!" _Alex had snapped the previous session. However, the lady (who seemed to be in her twenties; which had gave Alex false hope that she could correlate with him) basically ignored half of his criticism, and then further questioned him on why he was calling his adopted home in reference to the 'Pleasure's house' and not personalising it for himself.

"No, I haven't decided yet," Alex repressed a indignant sigh and continued to drink his coffee. Ms. Young had barely wrote anything on his notepad during this session, but she just sat there quietly waiting for him to state or say anything - it _was_ a different approach from the other six sessions. "There's only six other books that I got from her drawer, to read... excluding 1984****** because I finished that last week."

Ms. Young nodded, "that's right, did you enjoy it?"

Alex shrugged, nearly finishing the coffee. For some abruptly irrational feelings, he didn't _want_ to finish it so quickly - because he liked the feeling of the warm mug between his fingers.

"Did you want to tell me the books you're thinking of?"

There was a pause in the room. The blond briefly wondered about the discussions reached in this session; it was un-necessary, really, but Alex felt more irritated than vulnerable in comparison to his previous sessions. When he realised that Ms. Young was giving him a break from it - it was a Monday, 21st of April, perhaps she herself was tired and wanted the lighter approaches today.

"I was thinking that... at least two of the books, Elizabeth might've brought for me. I mean, before or after the... adoption," he took a breath and added before he knew she'd have to ask, "because two of them were published just a few months ago. From her collections, I know she reads a range of books but it just seems..."

Slightly sheepish, Alex couldn't handle the waiting stare the therapist had and had to remind himself that it's a _good_ thing to open up, and explain his thoughts... _Right_? It was important for recovery. As he let his eyes drop, and land on the cup of coffee Ms. Young kept at the foot of her chair, he was suddenly struck by the realisation that she hardly touched it. It would be cold by now.

"That's a positive sign, Alex," Ms. Young finally replied. She wrote in her notepad something, but Alex could vaguely see the sketch of a question mark or two, which struck him as slightly worrying. "If you're right, it shows that Mrs. Pleasure is trying to show that she cares. And _care_ right now is the most critical thing to keep you going, do you agree?"

Alex flinched, but somehow managed some nod that Ms. Young accepted and continued, "I want you to try something new: before I see you next, I want you to talk to Mrs. Pleasure about your readings. I'd like to know if she did buy a book for you."

It wasn't much of an offer, but a demand, Alex could perceive. Vaguely, he wondered what would happen if he didn't do as he was told.

"Alex?"

He cleared his throat and replied, "well... I know there's another book after City of Bones, but I don't think she has it. But... I think it's a series that I want to get into. The other books are more of a one-off..."

"Do you think you could list the six for me?"

Alex listed off _The Haven_ by Carol Lynch Williams, _Sleep Donation_ by Karen Russell, _Unwind_ by Neal Shusterman, _The Stand_ by Stephen King, _Fahrenheit 451_ by Ray Bradbury and _Brave New World_ by Aldous Huxley, to be told by the therapist that his sense of memory wasn't affected by his recent diagnosis.

Two weeks after his first therapy session, Alex was finally diagnosed with Major Depression - and a written risk of a possible cyclothymic disorder.*******

Nobody mentioned PTSD yet, but Alex was just _waiting _for the axe to fall...

* * *

"Sab?"

"Yep, it's me," she whispered, closing the door. Her parents had abnormally fallen asleep in the living room, so they decided to whisper to not wake them up.

Sighing, Alex rolled over onto his bed, faceplanting the pillow. Openly, he admitted, "Sab, why is it so hard to sleep _properly_?"

He was expecting a laugh from her, and glanced over when she was silent for a moment. "It will get _better_. Come over here."

Sighing again, he mumbled, "I am not a dog" but he stood up and took the sleeping pill from her palm.

Once Alex was ready to go into bed and wait for sleep, Sabina stopped him from moving away from her. The hug was the first actual physical sign of affection that Alex was given since the reunion.

From it, he froze.

He waited for Sabina to say something, explain, or come up with something brilliantly philosophical that will lighten his spirits. But the only response he received was her embrace, and so he tried to be okay with it - he tried to be okay with her caring nature. They were friends, after all, he tried to remind himself that it was _normal_.

When Sabina finally let him go, he felt drained like all his resolve had withered into the River Styx. He watched her as she turned the light off and saw her silhouette jump into the bed. "God," she laughed vaguely, "you'd think you'd sleep like a child, sleeping next to a female for so many days, as a young male."

In the dark, he knew that Sabina took longer for her eyes to adjust, so he rolled his eyes purely for his own benefit.

He was trying to think about anything but life. The way he held onto hope for change, since the end of the first week was a distant feeling for him as he tried to recollect memories of the hug that he felt so disconnected from... and yet it was _just seconds ago_. Hugs were supposed to be comforting, so why was he desperate for something to hold his heart together, from slipping into a black hole of existence? He felt like it was draining and impossible for his brain to even try and cooperate with ideas of the future. His whole life felt so fragile and distant that night, as he could feel the life of Sabina next to him, such a delicate being of humanity - he couldn't understand why she'd handle with his fucked up life into her own.

He closed his eyes the second the song Hospital For Souls tuned on, ready. It wasn't until the third song, when Alex realised that Sabina was playing a Bring Me The Horizon playlist - and it wasn't until about the fifth song, when he realised he mind wasn't shutting up. Despite craving for sleep to claim his consciousness, gradually he felt like he could pinpoint exact moments his mind was spinning... Until he couldn't handle it any more.

Making up his mind, he held his breath and slowly leaned his body upfront. Sabina had put on the blanket over herself, but it was only covering Alex's legs so it was easier for him to slip out. His aim to get out of the bedroom quietly _had_ worked, until he was inside the too-bright-locked-bathroom, that felt so much further away from the comfort of his 'adopted family.'

Slowly, he realized his fingertips were trembling (after staring at them for a minute) and his chest was _tight_. Confused and slightly disgruntled as the sight - he wondered _when _it started and why.

That was the first mistake - an unnecessary mistake that made Alex lift up his arms in despair and escape an unwilling wail.

His focus on the trembling and physical restrains only made the problem intensify with panic. Much quicker than he expected, his chest suddenly constructed and he was forced to crouch over. Alone, before half past midnight , with his own bodily functions opposing him - he was at a lost.

Alex Rider didn't even register that he had started hyperventilating by the time he forced his legs to pace - the 15 year old _didn't know_ what panic attacks were (let alone that they existed). So he was unaware of it's effects on him as he considered ways to get the world to _stop_ spinning out of control - to. _Calm. Down._

When he tried to understand this moment, days after, all he could fathom was his feeling of despair and need for relief.

He was almost completely delusional - he wasn't even sure he could _see_ fairly well, when he finally opened the door of the bathroom. Whatever was happening to his body, it was making him feel like he needed to lie down and squeeze his eyes shut until it let him go. But it _wouldn't end_, his thoughts were frazzled and he knew he needed to keep moving; whatever he needed _wasn't_ in the bathroom.

He barely even registered that Edward Pleasure wasn't in the living room this night; and that's when he remembered how he could stop it. He needed to trigger endorphins. From Alex's memory, endorphins are neurotransmitters - chemicals that are the body's response to- _God_, Alex almost heaved, he couldn't formulated logical full sentence thoughts.

Stumbling into the kitchen, he only half hoped that he wasn't making _too_ much noise- before his thoughts drove into how dark the kitchen was - _if I turn on the light, will the Pleasures come to me?_ - and that he was fairly certain his brain just popped - _what are end... endorphins? fuck_ -

The light switched on, and Alex grabbed his forehead, frantic before he slowly comprehended he was getting heat flashes - _from the sudden light?_

Vaguely, he wondered if this was just his body trying to cope with his environment; he had been straining it for so long. His body is overcompensating; he needed to restore itself. He considered sleep - before realising that he was wasting too much time in the kitchen arguing with himself - and reminding himself that _sleep doesn't work_ - he's in this position because he _couldn't fucking shut down_.

_Slow breaths, slow, deep breaths, Alex._

_Focus,_ he tried repeating, _you can this_ - but just as quickly as he tried to calm down, his mind cowered at the fact that he shouldn't even _need_ 'fixing', but of course he does because - _you're a fucking stupid baby that got yourself into this mess!_

In the end, he didn't understand how it happened.

He couldn't remember having to (or deciding, or moving) to lean onto the kitchen counter-top, but there he was, desperately clinging over the drawer with utensils. When he took out a knife, with shaky fingers, he couldn't for the love of goodness, figure out where he learnt this fact - or how he remembered: release of blood out of skin, stimulates that something has 'attacked' the body, and awakens the immune response to fix the problem - endorphins, it's like a drug, it should feel okay- like a paper cut, _but I've been through worse than that_ -

In a fractured sequences, Alex understood he was caught.

He put the knife on the bench, instead of in the drawer like he could've easily done if he wasn't experiencing... experiencing this!

He thought he saw Sabina walking into the kitchen, her hair in a bun frazzled from the pillow - but this time, he was fairly sure that the world he could see was actually _shaking_, and he wasn't sure if he was delusional... Did he hope he'd get caught by Sabina, preferably over Elizabeth - or Edward?

"_Oh,_"_ god_, he heard himself, and dropped to the kitchen floor in self pity.

* * *

**_References:_**

**_*_** I couldn't find/remember exactly where the Pleasures live - and I didn't want to search for it at the end of my Scorpia Rising book... So I'm not sure if San Francisco is the right location, sorry.

**_**_ **_1984,_ a dystopian novel by George Orwell - Alex read first (during his second week with the Pleasures).

**_***_** Cyclothymic disorder is a milder form of Bipolar, which is a form of depression, with fluctuating moods of high highs, and low lows - it's more complicated than that, but you can google it to understand it better yourself.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

_Hello again... from 2 o'clock in the morning!_

_*coughs* ahem, sorry for complaining (kind of)... This is my note though, I'm typing it up, and I'm fairly positive not many people actually care to read this (I understand though - that was an intense chapter, and I've read fanfiction before when something happened so suddenly I couldn't handle reading an author's note - I needed a moment), I'm just almost out of my mind because I'm so tired, but so stressed- I have an assignment due in two days I should start *dejected sigh* _

_I hope your week has been more pleasant than mine, sweethearts. If not, I'm proud of you for making it here, and I wish you better luck for the next week. _

_In this chapter I had made references, indicating to self harm - I want to fully be clear here: I do not promote self harm. I do not promote suicide. I do not promote mental illnesses, or anything negative that impacts the health of individuals. Alex Rider has gone through a lot of, for lack of a better word, shit: you cannot realistically come out of everything he has been through squeaky clean and healthy without it influencing some things, or impacting your life drastically (this also means character development, he may be acting differently to what he'd do and say in Storm-breaker, but humans adapt in this way, so I'm writing him from my own perspective of it). Unfortunately for Alex, he's going to have to deal with that - and it's not going to be easy, or pretty - so some confronting situations (which may be triggering - but I will warn you in those chapters as best as I can) is going to be written in this story following his journey. _

_Personally... If you don't understand or like self harm, that's completely fine and reasonable. Nobody is supposed to 'like' self harm; just because I wrote about self harm in this chapter doesn't mean I like it or I agree. That's another reason why I put it in the tags of warning at the beginning of this chapter - but please restrain from insulting, using hurtful and disrespectful terms in relation to it in reviews, because it's pretty much ignorance to other people's feelings here, and I care about my readers' health and happiness more than my review count - so I would immediately delete the hurtful reviews. _

_If anybody ever needs to talk or vent - please trust that I'm honest when I say you can Private Message my account here. I'll just listen, offer support and advice as best as I can, about anything, such as self harm (this is an offer, but I'm under no means pretending that I'm a professional here). I've dealt with things such as self harm before, and it's still a struggle today - so all of this effects me as well (it was a part of the reason I started writing this fic - I was triggered and it was so late, under my bed covers I didn't want to bother getting out of... so instead, I started writing). _

_Actually, technically - typing. The prologue I typed up on my computer - but this chapter I typed up on my phone (so yeah, I'm aware it's not too brilliantly structured and done but I'm trying to get back into the rhyme of writing, I don't know how long it'll take)._

_A special thank you to everybody who reviewed my first upload here; would you believe me if I said I wasn't expecting any response? It's been so long since I've been on fanfiction, I honestly was worried about... well, everything. So thank you for your kind words, and being patient - I hope this chapter was up to your hopes and standards, please review and actually let me know what you thought, what you think might happen, any comments, questions - criticism (polite and constructive) is also appreciated. _


	3. Chapter Two: Ignorance

**_Warnings: _****_Language, reference to Character Death, Self Harm inclination, reference to Suicide, City of Ashes SPOILER (near the end of the chapter)._**

**Chapter Two: Ignorance Is Bliss, temporarily**

By the time the alarm had rang for 6:45am, the birds were already singing, the sun was already waking up and the sense of a Tuesday work/school morning sprung. Elizabeth joined the alert, having already been in the kitchen looking to make breakfast when the noise went off. Rather hastily, she moved to the bedroom to stop the alarm, despite knowing that her husband had taken off to work earlier.

Sabina was trying not to get angry, whilst she pulled her school uniform on, in her bedroom. Regardless of getting roughly four hours of sparse sleep, she couldn't stop her thoughts from spinning. She left Alex to do whatever he does in his room, grateful for the moment of peace. _There's no way in hell Alex is getting away with this,_ was the one consistent thought that kept repeating. She planned to use the time at school to figure out how she was going to deal - help - with Alex's situation; because clearly, he didn't trust the therapist enough to do so.

When she returned to her mother, the kitchen oozing with the aroma of Eggs Benedict, she let her smile make the decision. At the inevitable questions, Sabina replied that '_yes, Alex is fine'_ - '_of course I sent him to bed mum, I was tired too'_ - and: '_no, he's not moping around,' - 'oh, well, _I'm_ not moping around.' _

Until that point, Sabina had succeeded in not actually remembering the night. She avoided over-thinking it because she was so worried; she didn't want to cry, especially knowing that Alex wouldn't appreciate this happening in front of the parents.

_Like it almost did._

There was a possibility, she comprehended, that she was jumping to conclusions. She hadn't asked Alex, she didn't have much 'evidence'; but she _did_ know _him_, and she understood that from everything he was experiencing; _he wasn't handling it well_. It seemed too suspicious to her 16 year old imagination: her mother calling her out of bed around midnight, near hysterics. Once Sabina had caught hold of the situation, and was informed about the confusion of the 'knife holding,' Sabina half-asleep jumped to 'high school dilemmas' and assumed Alex was trying to _end_ everything.

Seeing the boy lying more still than she had witnessed in the past five weeks*****, on the kitchen tiles, pale with heat flashes - she _froze_. It was all she could do, to remember that Alex wouldn't react _rationally_ to waking up distorted in a foreign environment (the hospital) like her mother's initial idea was.

_"Why- are you l-looking like that?"_ Alex had stuttered when his eyes opened after a minute.

That was when Elizabeth started shaking and Sabina realised that Alex waking up was a _good_ sign. Continuing to question him, everybody realised (with wave crashing relief) that he was coherent and he understood/could answer every question. Despite Sabina noticing he looked bone-crushingly creeped out, Alex was able to enlighten them with the likelihood that he 'just' _fainted_.

_"What were you doing out of bed?!"_ Elizabeth voiced Sabina's thoughts.

_"My health isn't up to standard... so I thought an orange could help. I picked up the knife, and assumed I could carry it and the orange back to the bedroom to eat - I didn't want to wake up anybody - I'm sorry - I figured turning the light on would be loud and-"_

With the fear that Alex could collapse into a state of unhealthy stages, with malnutrition and dehydration, the three of them stayed up another hour trying to help.

They fed him two oranges, with Sabina keeping track of him drinking a tall, cold glass of water. It was when Alex didn't seem like he was going to collapse again, and the colour returned to his face, when Elizabeth sighed. There didn't seem much that could be done at one o'clock in the night, so she returned to bed - mutely everybody, especially Alex, knew that this wasn't going to go ignored.

Elizabeth spent the next few mornings making big and healthy meals, whilst Sabina made sure that Alex consumed his proportion well. She could tell Alex noticed that she was trying to confront him about the situation, and somehow he had managed to fall into an almost 'hypersomnia' stage.

He woke up and drank extra strong coffee to burst his energy during the day (doing what, Sabina had no idea) and crashed at around 11pm. She came into his bedroom countless times, just barely growing the whim to talk to him about _it_... to find him face down on the pillow, listening to one earphone. Making the decision to allow him to restore his health through sleep, she returned to sleeping in her bedroom. She wasn't certain whether Alex slept peacefully during the whole night or not, but she was aware that regardless of restless nights, he officially wake up at around 7. She hoped he got at least six hours of sleep.

From what she had gathered from remote conversations with her dad that week, Alex was allowed to return to school on the second month of his return; which was the sixth week with them... However, with the fluctuation in health and programs with the therapy sessions, Alex had until the tenth week of his arrival, to return to Year 10 (sophomore year). Edward added that the deadline was the 27th of May, to which Sabina could rationalize as _'33 days to get Alex to admit exactly what had happened and what his thoughts are currently... and how much of an emergency she should treat it.'_

It sounded pushy and out of her bubbly character, even to her: but suicide isn't a joking matter. Sabina was too terrified to lose him, to even try and rationalize her plan.

* * *

Sabina wasn't home, at 10.30am, when Alex returned back to the house, because she was in an English lesson (learning about King Lear, by Shakespeare). In fact, that Friday both her parents were at work. So, normally, Alex caught the bus. Nobody except some older lady with a bright flower top, knew that Alex was trying not to cry - and ignoring the fact that he was slightly failing.

Alex Rider was disappointed, _angry_ with himself. The session was going so _smoothly..._ He wasn't completely sure where he screwed up.

He knew he wouldn't talk about _her_- he could rant and vent about the 'business' all he wished; but he didn't enjoy somebody being paid to analyse such details, into his 'psyche' and trying to _sort through his_ emotions. As much as he was trying to move forward and start anew; he wasn't completely ignorant to the fact that he was letting himself get overwhelmed. Luckily, he caught himself before discussing what had happened five days ago, that was a raw indicator that Alex was probably not coping; he even considered that it was likely to be a signal for PTSD (finally, he supposed). It was probably luck that Ms. Young wasn't alerted about it, somehow the Pleasures got busy (or they weren't aware of how and who to contact).

He was done with _emotions_. He didn't want to feel; and every session was like a reminder, a slap to the face, as if he was trying to _paint _colours into a _river _with a few short strings of a broken brush.

_"Was there anything you'd like to talk about, Alex?"_

_"I'm okay with discussing books, still, but I'm concerned that it's distracting us from following through the essentials."_

_"Because you deserve recovery."_

The therapist had gone through the session professionally- Alex could tell she knew exactly what she was doing, and what was appropriate to comment _and_ say _and_ ask _and_ evaluate. _She did it all right_, so why was he so flustered? Why did he never want to _see_ her again: an innocent helper?

The fifteen year old had been highly clear on every reunion, that he wasn't comfortable opening up about things in his past. When it was obvious in the second session that Ms. Young had been briefed on his former guardian, Alex had almost lost it and jumped out of his chair. Ms. Young spent that night trying to fathom how Alex conveyed his response; as she understood she hit a sensitive topic, and instead of the _young boy_ crying, _or screaming at her_- he simply _exited the room without a word._

After a hesitate five more sessions, it was logical that she would try to open Alex up about his mission, again.

_"Did any of your guardians aid you when you returned from a mission? In an emotional way?"_

_"If they had, do you believe without them around, that's why you're reluctant-" _

For reasons unbeknown to Alex, the session he just arrived from wouldn't stop replaying in his mind. Upon almost tripping up to the front door, and then slamming it shut behind him, he was aware that he needed to _calm down_ to be able to deal with it. However, he couldn't calm down to stop it, when the memories was only making him feel more of everything he wanted to escape.

Out of control.

Vulnerable.

Even in his memories, he could still feel his sharp replies to Ms. Young. There was plenty of things wrong: why couldn't he focus on _those_, instead?

Ms. Young hadn't even been phased. Swiftly, she turned the confrontation back to the idea of restraint and health, and school._ "Whether you like it or not, you're in a young generation, Alex, and that means that mixed with the influential experiences you've been _forced_ to go through - it's going to have an impact on your health. This will be negative, the more you try to avoid it, Alex. Help me understand what's going on, and we can avoid more pain for-"_

Logically, he _could fathom _why she was worried: even _before_ the increase of horrors in his missions, he still returned home with some obvious scars, not just physical. He would usually experience nightmares from the first night... It also worried Alex why he wasn't _suffering_ with an explosion of PTSD, after _two_ months. But regardless of this question, he was awfully aware of every conscious minute, he couldn't stop shaking at the idea imposed by Ms. Young.

The future was in his hands.

His own life, his own opportunities, happiness, being was at risk by this question.

He had hoped that joining the Pleasures, a new experience and opening would lead to further education, allowing him to grow into occupations he willingly enjoyed, and days where he could learn and not be haunted. All of this would start with recovery and - "_Alex, what do you intend to do if you return to school and you're so overwhelmed that everything you've been ignoring, comes back_?"

Ms. Young's concept had frozen the teenager, in the cold Spring of weather in the seat of her office. If he returned to school, he needed to be able to sleep and be healthy enough to function and cope with the homework, exams, social structures... And the fear that he'll never escape, waited until he left the session and sat on the bus, quiet back home.

Alex had assumed PTSD was inevitable for him, eventually; but he didn't think he could handle it arriving once _school_ would start. Overhearing Sabina and Edward the other day, he understood that it was just a short few weeks until he would have to go back, and... If he screwed up dealing with education, his future will be impacted.

What if he got flashbacks or emotional bursts during class? Surrounded by oblivious students, his age, scared and then judging his reaction?

By the time Alex entered the kitchen, he wasn't able to identify his emotions. After a moment's consideration, he opened the drawer and wondered what would have happened if he hadn't been caught by Elizabeth. He picked up the butter knife and froze.

In that minute of absolute, Alex became presently aware of the heavy sounds of his breathing, the feeling of the cold, lifeless metal in his fingers, the deafening emptiness of the house...

And the sound of the knives cluttering together as he dropped the object back in.

_No_, Alex thought and backed away from the now-closed drawer.

_No_, "I _don't fucking understand_!"

Rubbing his face in distress, he realised his cheeks were wet and slowly, he tried to count to 10.

He didn't even make it to 5, when he stormed off to the bathroom and attempted to calm down through a shower.

He planned to never return to the real world from the familiar warmth of showers.

* * *

Somehow, Alex had managed to hide that he was falling through a downfall the week that had followed.

That Monday, Alex could feel his hands shake again, when he knew he was getting closer to Therapy. He wasn't sure if he would've panicked and asked Edward if he could miss this one session, when he saw his adopted father's face. Edward looked so benign, almost like Ian's face softened when Alex had fallen out of his bike the first time. Back then, Alex had sworn he'd _never_ fall off a bike again, not just in front of his uncle, but _ever again_.

Edward seemed to genuinely care about Alex, as did all the Pleasures, and for what wasn't the first or last time, Alex thought about the dynamics of them, and... _His home_. He could call it that, but it still didn't sound right. Something was _missing_. Home was never without _her_.

So, instead, Alex decided he'd maintain the idea of keeping The Pleasures oblivious as he could, keep them safe, happy, and maybe proud, one day.

The blond didn't look back when he exited the car, and kept walking towards the building. Really, it wasn't Edward's fault he didn't realise what was happening, but Alex couldn't help but feel misunderstood. In relation to Alex's prior actions and history, it would've been out of character if he didn't do _something_ by now. In his own little rebellion, he entered the building, and then made a beeline for the male's bathroom.

By the time he opened the door, Edward was already calmly driving away, back onto the main roads. Despite knowing this, Alex took in a large shaky breath, glaring at his reflection in the mirror, and still waited four minutes before leaving the bathroom. And the building.

Next to the building was a street blocking a set of shopping centres, a high school and a bus station. If he was patient, he would've waited for the next bus to take him there, but he could feel the adrenaline from _finally_ escaping a session. He ran across the street, and eventually found himself inside the shopping centre, ordering a bottle of water and breakfast. For around 8.30 in the morning, Alex was surprised at how many people _were_ at the shops. To be fair, it was still marginally less than usual.

"Shouldn't you be in school at this hour?" The lady said as she handed him fish and chips.

"I've got a project to do, I'm researching right now," Alex had replied back sullenly, the memories of Friday's session flooding back.

Then the lady offhandedly replied back something that lightened Alex's hopes: "_Oh, you're using the library. Well, have a nice day, kid._"

Alex spent the next fifteen minutes swallowing down grins with his food, and using his phone to check if there _was_ a library near by. Then he promptly threw the left overs into a trash can and walked up to the second storey of the centre. He could say that about two thirds of the second storey was the library.

It took until Thursday for the librarian to get used to the teenager. By that time, Alex had finally finished City of Bones, and moved onto City of Ashes. Alex would return to the library every day, from around nine o'clock until Elizabeth would pick him up at 1 in the afternoon, or Alex could return home by bus whenever he pleased.

To be honest, Alex was impressed that he managed to miss Monday and Wednesday's sessions without anything happening. It almost didn't surprise him, when at 9 o'clock on Friday, an exact week since his last session, his mobile rang.

Ms. Young sounded irritated, but she agreed to let him skip that session as well. Alex had remained calm over the call... Until his therapist had told him that she had contacted The Pleasures and informed them of what was going on.

After two hours of pacing in the library aisles, Alex finally texted The Pleasures not to pick him up- that he'd come home by bus. It was already decided that he'd go home once the library closes, to give Alex more time to waste away from seeing their disappointed, or frustrated, faces. Eventually, he was ushered out of the warm seat at 5.25pm. Solemnly catching the bus, he spent the half an hour repeating scenarios in his mind, about how to approach the situation and _what_ to say and when...

The Pleasures had already set up the dinner table, like always at 6 o'clock. He greeted them, and felt their hesitance on how they would confront him. It was the perfect opportunity to get Sabina ranting about something at school whilst he kept his mouth constantly full from eating the dinner.

Having finished first, Alex escaped to his bedroom and distracted himself by reading _(City of Ashes Spoiler)_ how Simon was going to inform his parents of his new immortal transformation from humanity.

Alex wished he could say he lost track of time - but he was awfully _aware_ when it hit ten o'clock - and worried that The Pleasures would confront him then. So he got off the bed, turned off the lights and left the lamp on, to continue reading. He _planned_ to fall asleep _soon_, but if all else failed, he could pretend he had if he heard the door open.

After 43 days passed since _then_, The Pleasures finally woke up uncoordinatedly at 3am by Alex's first nightmare.

* * *

_**References:**_

***** Alex had been with the pleasures for about five weeks, when Sabina had made that comment - the first week being sketch of the prologue. The rest of the weeks were described in the first chapter: Alex was free the first week and a half, being contacted within the second week by MI6 and then starting therapy. It had been mentioned that he already had six sessions by the time I wrote 'chapter one' (three sessions a week, roughly) so when you count those three weeks with the therapist and the two free-ish weeks; it had been five weeks since Alex left England, finished the mission, was adopted and entered his new home and life.

By the end of the chapter, we're about seven weeks in.

_Wow, did I really just need to explain one thing? I'm worried I've missed something, but if you feel like you're confused or I did something wrong, just review this and let me know and I'll see what I can do._

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Greetings from under the blankets of my couch at 4:11pm because I'm cold and too tired to bother heading back to my bedroom after lunch! Did you notice? This is the first time I hadn't started and finished another chapter half on my bed at like _five in the morning.

_Though I've still got the half-asleep part down, so don't panic, I'm not changing that quickly *sigh*... I hope this chapter is up to standards, I'm not really coherent after hours of trying to complete _another _assignment that I shouldn't have procrastinated._

_Originally I explained in the prologue note that the first few chapters will be really fast paced as I have plans for the future for Alex, and I need these initial chapters as setting starters, fillers, explanations... So that's why in just two chapters Alex has gone through seven-ish weeks._

_Personally, I didn't enjoy writing this chapter as much: I feel like it could've turned out better- but I've re-read it and re-edited it so many times that I feel like all the meaning and paragraphs and words have just muddled into each other, and I decided: fuck it, I need to just upload this and move on. Let me know your opinions and thoughts in a review; _polite _- comments, questions, ideas, constructive criticism is all welcomed and appreciated._


	4. Chapter Three: Potential

**_Warnings: lightened up on the Language for this chapter, references to Character Death, Survivor's Guilt, lots of Dialogue in this chapter_**

**Chapter Three: Potential **

"It's probably just a nightmare-"

That much was obvious. Impatient, Sabina didn't waste any more time conversing with her mother, outside of Alex's door. Thinking away the image of her dad downstairs, frantically trying to do anything to keep himself busy, she slowly turned the knob.

At first, the room was completely stilled in blackness. With the knowledge that Alex always leaves the curtains open (_and the windows..._ Sabina suddenly felt exposed and paranoid for Alex's nightly safety), she stepped inside the room.

_This time:_ she was ready. She _wasn't_ going to be informed by her mother waking her up, and _then freeze _in the midst of dilemma, now.

But... feeling like this was some sick, gradual horror film, she strained her ears to hear anything in the sudden silence. So when a thump erupted, she felt like it was _everywhere_.

"Alex?" Elizabeth Pleasure hesitated called, still in the doorway.

Just as Sabina motioned to move towards the bed- her eyes now adjusted- the blankets trashed half off the mattress with a high-pitched whimper. It was when Alex started trying to speak, when Sabina realised he was awake, and aiming it at _them_.

"Alex, it's okay, I'm here," she made sure her words were clear, sitting on the edge of the bed.

The fifteen year old wheezed, barely able to finished his sentences. Before Sabina could attempt to consult him, she saw her mother motion towards the light switch and Alex's voice snapped, "no, don't..."

Eventually, Elizabeth left Sabina hugging her adopted son. Sabina couldn't feel tears on his cheeks (so he wasn't crying) but in her arms, she could feel him shaking with the heaviness of his chest rising and falling. Every time he tried to apologise or speak, his throat would constrict and he'd _shutter_ into sob-sounds.

After Alex's shivering slowed and Sabina noticed he hadn't opened his mouth in a while, he motioned out of her arms. He stood up and upon switching the light on, Sabina saw his pale face. "Sab, I-"

"It'll be okay," she all but muttered.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he flinched. "_I feel sick_."

"I can get mum-"

Alex covered his face with his hand, and with a muffled voice, mumbled, "no..."

Sabina stood up, but wasn't sure if it was her action that caused him to step back or not; leaning back on the space next to the doorway. "Oh, I really _don't_ want to th-throw up..."

Almost missing it in the blink of her eyes, Alex shuttered and let out one last whimper, trying his best to suppress sniffling, even in his current state. "I'm sorry, just let me have a shower... And I'll calm down, _okay_? Please."

Alex let go of his face, his hands twitching at the swift movement. However, he didn't wait for approval. Shoulders straight, face composed, he half smiled at Sabina, "come on, I survived worst than a figment of my subconscious' imagination."

He gathered jeans and fresh underwear, moving quickly to the bathroom. With the image of fire still under his eyelids, he was desperate to get under the familiar water. It took all of his _will power_ to not dwell on his nightmare, _not_ dwell on the embarrassment of being caught, not overthink or panic... Alex didn't realise this, but he stayed in the shower for 25 minutes, just gradually flinching and vividly aware of the pressure protracted and hard, in his heart beat.

By the time he put back his pyjama top back on, with his jeans, he was numbly questioning the use of his day. Edward and Elizabeth weren't in sight, but he could hear them speaking in rushed tones from their bedroom, as he picked at the fruit bowl in the kitchen.

He was beginning to believe that Sabina had fallen back asleep on his bed, when her silhouette crawled into the corner of his eye. "Are you cutting an apple?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"So... Why isn't _the light_ on, Al?"

It's only been a few weeks with the Pleasures; he was disappointed at how rapidly he got weary their gentleness, how they measured their sentences whenever he was on the brick of a meltdown - like they were afraid he was going to explode under their presence.

He failed to notice he didn't reply back to Sabina, who had already moved and switched on the light. She mentioned something about her parents not going back to sleep, so he supposed it didn't matter whether it was on or off. Involuntarily, he still let off half a moan and covered his face with his hands. Functional things like communication and such brightness seemed to take tedious effort to keep up with... And be exposed to, after a nightmare.

It was a strange feeling; to want to crawl into a ball and shut his eyes forever against the light, and simultaneously, not want to drift off to sleep ever again.

"Does Ms. Yones know about this?"

Sabina's voice sounded like she was directly in front of him, and he had to restrain from flinching away from it's contact, as he corrected, "Ms. Young?"

Sabina half-snorted, "whatever."

"If she knew about this, I'd be worried, because this is the first nightmare..."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

Alex opened his mouth to say 'no' when he was surprised that he hesitated. Slowly, he peered from his fingers, and saw Sabina was cutting into a second apple, sitting behind the bench-top, facing him.

"I was walking up a building," Alex finally said, almost like a whisper. "I mean, from the actual outside, because in the building was... well I don't know, I just felt like going in wasn't an option, I guess."

Sabina pushed the bowl of apples to him, took a piece to eat, looking at him. He felt the need to explain, "And... There were crocodiles underneath me, trying to bite me. If I let go, or fell..."

Sabina's eyebrows furrowed, and slowly, Alex felt like humourlessly laughing at the realisation: that climbing up a building to escape crocodiles, was the last thing Sabina expected him to wake up near tears from.

"I don't remember much from that part of the dream, it was short - in comparison... to when I entered this room and... God, I know it's crappy as a nightmare, but the worst part was just this _tension_, like I was _supposed to be hiding_ from _everything_ and I was just engulfed by this dread, I don't even understand what the real _purpose_ was!"

Sabina inhaled from her mouth, wary of how to comfort her adopted brother. Of course the nightmare _sounded_ 'harmless' but everybody's experienced the _feeling_ of nightmares, so she fathomed that there was more to it, and it wasn't pleasant.

"On missions," Alex mumbled, finally glancing down at the bowl of apple and picking a piece up, "I at least knew who the enemy was, or I had a rough idea of where they were - I _didn't even know where_ the danger was, in this dream! I- I couldn't..." Alex tried to inhale sharply, but his whole body inevitably flinched. He remained quiet for a while, restraining from looking back at Sabina.

"Yeah," Sabina said dumbly. "So... do you remember how it ended?"

Alex put an apple piece in his mouth, and waited until he felt like he wasn't going to croak, when he briefly answered, "I entered into this room, and there was like I stepped over this line of panic- and _really_ slowly, so I could sense and see and hear everything so clearly- I just... Shot this lady- I mean, I don't think it _hit_ her- she was in a robe, patting some cat. All this glass just fucking _shattered..._ And I thought I succeeded in doing something, when this line of fire just circled the room, and I was stuck-"

Alex cleared his throat, disgruntled at his inability to prevent the real memories of Desmond McCain laughing at Alex's straining muscles, but _that_ wasn't the hardest reminder-

"and so," Alex cleared his throat again, looking back at Sabina's eyes- as if it would give him confidence in saying: "I was forced to watch the lady panic. I had caused it; and the guilt; I was just watching _this stranger_ sobbing, and thrashing and looking for her cat, which just kept screaming... The fire was blinding, until all I could see was it ma-matching _her_ hair and when her eyes caught mine-" Alex's voice cut off at the last words, and he dropped his head, trying not to shake.

"She just- She _was_- I didn't mean-" When Alex knew he couldn't hide his shaky voice, he closed his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut.

Logically, he knew Sabina had stood up and was abruptly hugging him, but all he could see was _her_- _her_ burning and hysterical in his nightmares- _her_ breathing her last breath in the car explosion in Cairo.

* * *

Alex overheard Edward on the phone, five hours later, at 8 o'clock. He rarely had nightmares before his dealings with MI6, so whenever he did have one and Ian was home - they would spend the day together. The conversation sounded familiar, as Sabina was provided a 'sick day' from school. Surprisingly, that was the first time Alex imagined attending school alongside Sabina. He was placid about the fact that it was going to be true in barely three weeks.

It wasn't that Alex appreciated having a nightmare, but he was given a sudden ray of opportunity. The nightmare left him feeling strange, but calm. The reminder of high school didn't make him feel like he was drowning. He was able to finally consider his options, and think about how he was going to deal with his time.

Plus, it distracted the Pleasures enough to not confront him about Ms. Young's phone call yesterday. Yet.

Gratefully, Sabina had left Alex alone to his bedroom after he opened up. From four in the morning to five, he started reading Ray Bradbury's _Fahrenheit 451_. The stinging weather of 5am led Alex back into the kitchen making himself a mug of hot chocolate.

He could hear the Pleasures having a conversation in the living room; a normal discussion as if they hadn't been woken by their ward hours before they needed to go to work. The TV was also on, but he couldn't tell what was playing. Sabina found him a minute later, pacing with the microwave counting down.

"Is there anything you want to do, today?" she asked.

Without stopping his pacing, Alex replied, "so, I'm returning to year 10, but I'm so behind because..." Alex glanced at Sabina, and then cleared his throat, "that means that I- I have all the resources already. There's no point in just waiting... Do you reckon I should start revising?"

"You're eager to start weeks before the first day?" Sabina teased, "You're a teacher's dream."

Alex snorted at the same time the microwave dinged.

With renewed motivation, Alex spent the morning prioritising his bedroom. Eventually, he unpacked his school resources, and sat at his table now-crowded. He figured it was past nine o'clock when he heard the front door lock and Edward and Elizabeth's voices drifted away.

For a while he considered escaping his bedroom again, to find Sabina and see what she was doing - letting him fend for himself for many hours... By the time it was ten o'clock, he had arranged his desk into subjects and left the readings he knew were important, on the surface of it, for clear view. He was struggling to make a list on exactly which subjects he needed to focus on and revisit, as he missed so much school he didn't knew what the year consisted of. He used to be good at English - but now he didn't know what his strengths were.

"Did you have breakfast, yet?" Sabina asked once Alex gradually returned from the bedroom.

"No, did you?" Alex retorted.

"I will, though," Sabina returned to the TV sheepishly.

After Alex made his coffee (_dammit, I put too much sugar_), he sat on the couch with Sabina. She was watching The Simpsons- a show he never paid attention to before. He wondered what Ian Rider would think of it; and the fact that Alex was really enjoying it. From memories, he knew _she_ always had The Simpsons on in the background during the morning weekends- _of course, it suited her personality- _

_no._

Trying to swallow, he said out loud, "you're in year eleven, right, Sab?"

Whilst still looking at the TV, she nodded.

"So, what classes are you doing, then?"

Sabina sighed and glanced down at her lap. "Well, I shouldn't have picked biology. But I guess it's more interesting than Calculus. Advanced Journalism and English... Cosmetology. Photography. Family and Consumer science is actually a lot more boring than I hoped it'd be."

There was a silence as Alex took in the information, taking the time to quickly drink half of his coffee. "I'll have to choose next year. You have seven classes."

"Yeah," Sabina said nonchalantly, "you're supposed to pick six or seven. I thought... In case I fail one, I have another to get back to."

Shivering, Alex tried to focus on what she was saying. It seemed crazy, but Sabina - _talking_ to Sabina - just reminded him of _her_. It wasn't fair: a show like the Simpsons that she had adored, continues on for decades and decades, and she was just _murdered._

They'd _never_ get to watch future episodes together on couch, like he was doing with Sabina-

"Well, do you have any idea what you'd choose, Alex?"

"Um," he opened his mouth, but all he could think about was how he decided to watch the Simpsons with Sabina, _after_ her death. He never tried to stay with her, and give it a _try_. He could hear her voice now, calling to him to sit with her, and he was in his bedroom calling - '_next time, promise_'

All he shared with her in the end was her _last_ moments-

He felt Sabina's hand on his shoulder, and looked at her serious eyes: just barely catching his jump. Before she could ask if he was okay, he muttered, "no, I don't know what I'd get into... My grades and attendance right now; shaky."

Sabina nodded carefully and lifted her hand off his shoulder. "Okay..." Alex waited for her to question him about the shivering and 'little moment' when she said, "I did year ten already- so if you need any help, I'm free."

Quickly, Alex's head snapped up like he received a relevation. "You did year ten already."

"Yeah," Sabina's lips curled into an amused smile.

"Oh," Alex locked his fingers together and stretched them on his chest, thinking. "Oh, that... Thank you."

"What classes are you struggling in?"

"I don't know; I guess all of them?"

There was a pause, interrupted by Sabina laughing. "Okay, first; breakfast."

In response, Alex watched as Sabina stood up and walked into the kitchen, as he drank the rest of his coffee. It was her who decided after five more Simpsons episodes, to start with Maths. Alex couldn't find a valid reason to complain.

You'd think Sabina having attended year ten and choosing Calculus for year eleven would mean she'd be an advantage for Alex's revision of Maths. But, two more cups of coffee, one meltdown, three textbooks, multiple scrunched sparse notes, eleven red pens yet just one blue pen available, and five hours later, Alex barely started understanding what he had missed in term one.

"Okay, perhaps I'll just grab the syllabus and we'll start researching from the beginning points?" he said, voice slightly shaking, like it had three hours prior.

He ducked his head into the laptop on his lap.

But he didn't notice her sigh from across the desk, and get out of her seat.

Finally, he opened the syllabus on the laptop and froze. "Okay, I- I've got it, I'm just not sure-"

Sabina closed her own laptop and stretched, "I think we can use the General Maths Textbook #1 for the first few points..."

Alex's hands spread over his keypad, and he just stared at the screen, analysing all the points and their increasing weight of education and importance.

"Alex, you need a break. Let's have _lunch_ and-"

_Sab, there's no time... I thought I could do this, but I'm obviously going to waste so much time trying to learn this- just like I wasted today, and yesterday -_

Silence.

Alex glanced above the screen confused. He opened his mouth and realised Sabina stopped speaking because he _hadn't_ replied.

_And shit... This is just one subject out of six-_

"Alex, focus!" Sabina was suddenly in front of him, closing the lid of his laptop slowly, so he moved his palms away. "I've been accepted into Calculus because I succeeded in at least the beginning knowledge of this. If you don't hurt yourself, I can help-"

"How am I hurting myself?" Alex snapped.

"If you don't take breaks, you tire yourself out - if you're not at an optimal health to concentrate-"

"Alright!" Alex flinched and stood up quickly to hide it. "Lunch... Thank you..."

* * *

_**IMPORTANT sorry I screwed up:**_

I had a feeling something was off with my age and timeline, but... I didn't realise what it was until Bandgeek2015 pointed it out in review, so thank you. I was referring to Alex as 15 years old, and then not taking into consideration where he was in position of the year - I said he was repeating year 10.

For the rest of this story: he's **not repeating** year 10. He is going **back** into year 10 and continuing on; he is not going back to the first term. This means that he needs to catch up on everything he's missed out on, instead.

_I'm now going to run by the educational system that I don't think the United States use, but instead England and Australia, I think: _

_January - holidays | __February and March - term one | __April - holidays | __May and June - term two | __July - holidays | __August and September - term three | __October - holidays | __November into December - term four._

And this is the time-scale that I'm now using for Alex's events and year as far:

Alex was taken out of school during Scorpia Rising (I remember Tom got shot and then Alex got blackmailed into going to Africa) - and in accordance to the educational system I'm using now, I'll assume the mission started around _February_.

Jack died on the _17th of April._

Quickly after, Alex was taken by the Pleasures and he wasted his first week doing basically nothing but semi-meltdowns, and in the middle of the second week, went into therapy.

On the _15th of May:_ that's when he collapsed during the panic attack.

End of chapter two: is the _30th of May_ (the previous chapter before this one).

Alex will return to school on the _16th of June_, meaning he'll have the last two weeks of that term handing in assignments and doing exams. If he passes those, then he is caught up on that term.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_If anybody has any questions or concerns, let me know a review. Constructive and honest Reviews are a good source for communication amongst readers and the writer, for understanding perspectives and thoughts, questions, ideas, etc. Much appreciated._

_I'm hoping you couldn't feel the author's block in this chapter... But I feel like my plans are for when Alex is 16, not 15, so I'm completely stuck here; I'm not sure how to get from point a to b - I was so detached from putting sentences in my mind to paper (metaphorcially speaking, as clearly I typed this up) that every few lines I'd literally give up and I wouldnt touch it for a few days._

_I tried my best to edit it: I feel like this chapter was important, regardless of it's size in comparison to my last few chapters, because it started the obvious symptoms of Alex's PTSD and his return into education and studying. So if there was anything wrong or incoherent, I'm sorry, but I'm just going to cry if I look over this chapter for the hundredth time. _

_Here's to hoping it's okay._


	5. Chapter Four: Maths versus Market

_**Warnings: Language (what I'm slowly learning from my uploads, is that I have a potty mouth), Panic Attack symptoms, Violence, Sensitive Topic (abortion), and Self Harm.**_

**Chapter Four: Equations Don't Answer Market Fights**

Alex had decided there was a kind of humour at 7 in the morning, like humans were trained to feel something at that time. Feeling the cold fabric huddling his body, ready to never move out of his bed, he could still _feel_ 7am-in-the-morning. It was like the hour described the brick of society's function- children waking up around this hour for school, adults ready to leave for work. This hour could be so busy, but for Alex that Saturday morning, it felt so quietly empty.

Involuntarily, the boy finally drifted off into a state of unconsciousness, snapping his eyes open when he heard the neighbours walking into their backyard, behind the fence of Alex's bedroom. They were talking about some kid who was supposed to get glasses in the mail, apparently. For reasons unbeknown to Alex, it reminded him that he agreed to study maths, again, today.

Alex stretched, pulling at his limbs under his blankets. He tried to remind himself that he was willing for _this_ new life, so that he had opportunity to recover from the past..._ be happy_, he tried to convince himself. _You did so well trying to be open originally, what's the difference now? _The fifteen year old understood that to cope with returning to the school system, he needed to be healthy... He failed to miss the irony of this moment, in contrast to the lies MI6 fed about him 'being sick.'

When the neighbours started fading away, Alex restrained a groan and walked out of his bedroom. He could picture the maths textbook he left in the living room last night with Sabina. Of all the textbooks he could've removed from the mess and piles on his bedroom desk, _why was it Maths? _Alex internally allowed himself to complain, missing the comfort of his warm bed.

Grabbing the textbook, he noticed the clock signalling 8am. He figured the Pleasures would sleep in for another hour or more... Or so he hoped. Initially it was because he was starting to feel some warmth in his bones, that to which he used to identify with whenever he was with Ian, or _her_... family, somebody he was _used to, cared about_. Grateful for The Pleasure's existence and tolerance, he wanted them to rest up- especially after acknowledging how hard it would be to agree to adopt _somebody like him_.

But regardless of everything, Alex felt different to how he's felt the passed few weeks. He felt so calm, he just wanted to enjoy in the silence of it, for a bit longer in the morning.

That was, until _twenty minutes later,_ when Alex's hair was in his hands and he was re-reading the same maths equation countless times. Alex knew time was going by both slow and fast; that he was wasting time, increasing the anxiety on the same damn pages... He missed breakfast. In fact, he was surprised The Pleasures didn't enter his room and drag him out of it by his ear. He could finally hear their voices, downstairs, talking about the markets.

_Paper sounds weird_, Alex concluded, focused on flicking the papers in the textbook. His eyes squinted when he noticed that his hand was shaking. Slowly he raised his other hand from holding under the textbook, to assess the situation. It was the sound of a gasp that 'woke' the teenager up, and he was subsequently aware of the shaky breathing pattern that consumed his thoughts and-

It was over. All the _motivation_ Alex had on maths seemed to strangle itself into his chest, as he dropped the textbook. He watched as the pages collided haphazardly, showing more maths and maths _and maths and-_

_Oh my god. _

Downstairs, the Pleasures were completely oblivious to Alex's little meltdown- he could hear Elizabeth's voice, listing off things they apparently planned to buy.

"Wait, Liz-" Edward interrupted.

"Yeah," Sabina agreed, "I wanted lunch, first. It's only twelve thirty-"

Alex took in a shuddered breath, closing his eyes from the textbook. _The textbook is solid in it's existence, just like the Pleasure's presence..._ He tried to focus on them instead, but it was as if his veins were pumping hardcore maths-panic.

"Besides," Edward said. Perhaps Alex's senses were going haywire, because he could swear Edward's tone had changed from seconds ago, as he questioned, "when was the last time we took Alex _out_, for not-therapy?"

That was followed by a silence, to which Alex assumed somebody spoke quietly or they had prior-plans about that discussion.

In a fit of emotions, he slammed his fist on his maths textbook, blinking rapidly. _Oh my god,_ he repeated, _honestly - how can I survive a fucking shark... unprotected and I don't understand... these numbers, letters, words?!_

The fifteen year old stood up and walked to the other side of the room, where he left a cup of water on the bed-side table. _It's only midday,_ he tried to remember what Mrs. Young was attempting to instil in his mind since Therapy Session #1; _'you deserve to recover, Alex... None of this is your fault, but it is your responsibility to remain healthy. You need to take care of yourself, so that you can live your life-' _

_And, living my life right now involves fucking sophomore mathematics. _Alex drank the water slowly, taking delicate notice of how the length of time it remained on the drawer had drained it from it's freezing temperature, as if he hoped it would calm him down. In fact, he returned to his seat and opened the textbook (taking careful consideration in moving the papers- telling himself it was to avoid paper cuts).

He figured there had to be _something_ accurate behind Mrs. Young's advice, because despite almost giving up into a panic attack, in return he understood _Topic 3: Probabilities._ Of course, he was aware he procrastinated the more heavier syllabuses- like _Linear Equations_ and _Quadratic Function Graphs_...

When Alex was in the middle of willing himself to turn the chapter in the textbook, to _actually_ focus; learn- he heard footsteps out of the door. He inhaled sharply, and unsurprisingly, the door opened. "Alex, dear, are you okay?"

Alex restrained from lowering his head into his hands, and went for nodding.

"I don't think you ate-"

Alex spun his chair around, almost forgetting to smile at his adoptive mother. "That's because I wasn't hungry."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and somehow _that_ motion hurt Alex more than if she lectured him. It meant she was trying to level with him- that she cared enough to _what?_ Seem as though she does understand- To not scare him _away_? "Technically, I think you're supposed to eat three meals a day, hungry or not, to keep your organs functioning."

Alex's smirk turned into a genuine reply. Blissfully aware that he was letting himself forget about his attempts to study maths, he stood up.

Following Elizabeth into the kitchen, he quickly became alert that something was happening. Unfortunately, he was too focused on how the thoughts made his stomach feel queasy to digest the arrangements between the Pleasures. Too wrapped up in thoughts, he didn't realise he grabbed an apple and Sabina was in the room, talking to him, until a minute after.

"Sorry, what?" Alex couldn't hold back another smile, when Sabina jumped off the chair and pinched his cheeks, saying something about 'cute' and 'market.'

Then he understood. "Oh."

* * *

Edward was still mumbling about how he mentioned to let Alex eat something- _before_ heading to the markets, when he pushed the car into Reverse.

Alex held the apple in front of his lips so that Edward couldn't see his smirk. Somehow he had convinced the Pleasures that he could eat when they came _back; _that he'd definitely be hungry by then, or they could buy food there. It wasn't that he was _avoiding_ food, he just had other pressing prioritises- like trying to be a part of the Pleasures family _and_ not ripped to shreds by studying.

The apple was so crunchy, it was initially difficult to bite into. He was tempted to throw the fruit out the window when after a few moments of just the sound of his chewing in the silence, Elizabeth turned on the radio. Alex counted three repeats of Jason Derulo before the markets came in view.

It had been a long time since Alex had been to a market. Well, in retrospect, he assumed he had been in one more recently, during a mission- but he didn't want to remember or think about that.

It had been a long time since he went to a market, with a family, for just _marketing_. Sabina was attempting to exit the car whilst typing (leading to her almost tripping over Alex as he was trying to shut his door), he tried to remember the last time he just messed around in a _shopping centre._

Upon arrival, Sabina immediately went for the cafe in the entrance. The Pleasures followed behind almost mutely, as if it was a weekly occurrence. Alex watched them like they were applying a routine; Sabina knew what she wanted and spoke to the man behind the counter, ordering a chocolate churro and iced tea. He moved forward to check the menu, when Sabina muttered _'I think he's 23- I'd give him a 8'_ and Alex nearly tripped over a panel to the food display from laughing at her.

Alex hadn't paid attention to what Elizabeth and Edward were getting because he was trying to analyse the food menu. Vaguely, he thought about how wrong it felt, that he spent so much time considering to order food or not - when apparently Edward had already paid for him. A churro (also with chocolate), coffee ('_we've noticed you really like coffee- so I hope you don't mind_' Edward had said quickly, adding '_we got the short cup in case-_') and fish and chips.

They spent some time eating at the cafe. Sabina was talking to her mum about something Alex didn't bother listening in to. He didn't mean to ignore Edward, but slowly he realised how distant he was acting, after Edward had skipped about four different topics in the first five minutes of sitting down. Looking at the hot chips on his plate, he suddenly couldn't handle the guilt in his gut; they were treating him so generously, and he was acting like a spoilt brat.

"Sorry," Alex forced himself to look up at Edward's eyes. "I was just thinking... Sometimes I amuse myself, by looking at strangers and considering their story- like... Sherlock."

Much to Alex's gratitude, the man nodded and lifted his eyes to a couple that just entered the market. Alex noticed that though the two of them looked close, they weren't dating. The female was intent on texting somebody (and by the way she glanced up, hesitate on where to move through the busy markets, it was the person they were meeting). Meanwhile, the guy was rolling his eyes, seemingly at something she said.

"Why would a seventeen year old need to smoke?" Edward asked, as the boy inhaled a cigarette.

Sabina took a chip from Alex's plate as he shrugged, "I didn't say I was God."

Shortly after, the trio had started moving through the markets as well. After passing a food court and some general commercial shops, Edward and Elizabeth got distracted by mats. "What is it with parents and mats?" Sabina sighed. "Seriously, each and every time we come here, they look at all the mats - I bet they won't even buy any..."

Alex did what he could to distract himself with music from earphones, and still involve himself with the Pleasures. Despite feeling like weeks were passing, he was still surprised when he checked the time and it had only been an hour and a half since they arrived. Annoyed at his lack of spy skills, he remembered the boy and girl friends that Edward and Alex halfheartedly attempted to analyse.

He was thinking about the pair so sceptically, that he had to take a double take to his surroundings. He almost couldn't believe that the same strangers he was thinking about, was standing a feet away, looking at some CD music store. Except in this image, they were with another male, who then wrapped his arm around the female's shoulders as he noticed them. If he tried enough, he could hear one of them exclaim, _'wait, what do you mean...'_

"Alex, would you rather this... or this?" Elizabeth had called to him.

He opened his mouth to reply back, but he couldn't even focus on what she was referring to. Something made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up the instant he felt a commotion erupting in the market. Ignoring somebody's hand on his arm, he turned around, eyebrows furrowed.

_What the? _was his single coherent thought, before he was staring at a crowd just a metre or so away from him. In fact, the teenager was dumbfounded to how he hadn't noticed the commotion earlier.

"What happened there?" Alex could hear Edward say, walking up behind him.

"I don't know," Sabina replied, "should we go check it out...?"

Alex knew it was probably inappropriate for him to walk away without a word, but he took the hint that clearly the Pleasures were curious as well.

As he got closer, he immediately noticed the difference in atmosphere- "_Well_... the _fuck_ do... mean _by_-"

Finally, Alex peered under some random stranger and could see pairs of shoes, all shuffling around each other. _A fight?_

He watched as two legs suddenly stepped back, and a female's voice snapped, "you're the one using your dick as your brain right now, Dominic-"

Sighing, Alex stood straight again, looking behind for the Pleasures. They were already besides him, Sabina was chewing her lip. 'Sorry,' Alex mouthed to her, as if it was _his_ fault this disruption was caused. Then he proceeded to annoy the two ladies in front of him, whilst he barged through. Clearly seeing the scene, he understood that the two boys and female he observed seconds ago, were arguing. The female continued, "if you got your head out of your ass, you'd realise it's _me_ you'd need to talk to, so stop being a prick to Daniel."

The boy with the cigarette squared his shoulders, and Alex suddenly noticed he was standing closer to the female. "I didn't know about the abortion-"

"No," both the female and cigarette-boy spoke. The boy hesitated and let the female defend herself- Alex assumed they'd know each other well enough, that something that happened without his permission and he was patient enough to not start a physical fight... yet.

Alex really, really hoped they would hold their cool whilst the female said, "No, Dominic, there was _no_ abortion-"

"Then what the fuck are both of you talking about?" Dominic's hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Cigarette-boy next to the female glanced away from Dominic's gaze and lifted the cigarette back to his lips.

"Clara is my friend, she is not your girlfriend any more. Besides, she's not your fucking property, whether she's in a relationship with you or not-" The female stepped forward, glaring at Dominic despite the height difference. "She is distraught, and I _know_ it's not your fault-"

"You..." Dominic interrupted, prompting shutting up the female, but then he hesitated. Slowly, he moved around her, squinting his eyes at cigarette-boy. His neck was getting redder, and Alex's instincts rose again. He didn't feel comfortable being in these markets, suddenly, and was about to retreat when his feet remained frozen in spot. He watched carefully as Dominic started, "you are an idiot, Sandy, if you really believe that."

He looked up at the female again, almost shaking, "you cannot fucking say that 'it's not my fault' and that _she's_ the fucking distraught one, when _I_ obviously _didn't_ want this to happen. You're the one pulling the strings, I fucking know _you_ spoke to Sandy the _day_ we broke up-"

Sandy walked up to Dominic and clenched his collars, "why don't you listen to me-?"

Dominic pushed Sandy off him, and then promptly ducked a punch that cigarette-boy tried to swing at him.

"I'm being the good friend: I merely suggested to her that if she cannot financially and emotionally cope with a child right now, abortion is an _option_..."

"_She's supposed to talk to me about this, not you- or Daniel_!" Dominic growled. Alex thought that he saw tears in his eyes, but then before he knew it- he witnessed a fight collide.

Sandy was suddenly dragged out of the line of fire, by what looked like Sabina from the corner of his eyes. He couldn't fathom the idea that Sabina had reacted so quickly, when he could swear he felt her presence behind him just seconds prior.

Cigarette-boy (Alex assumed was now Daniel) had tried consoling Dominic, when the pair was subsequently dodging aims.

"This is useless," Sandy muttered.

Alex watched as Sabina was trying to calm the female down, lost in decision- should he intervene in the physical fight? Watching the two boys fight, he felt so disconnected and vulnerable... It was as if his limbs felt like lead and he didn't know how he would counterattack the two boy's movements.

"Seriously, ridiculous!" Sandy yelled. She pushed past Sabina and ducked between Dominic's kick at Daniel. "The only person you need to speak to is Cl-"

Sandy was about to duck him colliding into her, when Daniel took a exhale of his cigarette, and then tried a punch to Dominic's gut. It was Dominic's movement towards Sandy that saved him. However, Alex was abruptly terrified of the 17 year old-looking girl in the oversized owl sweater, who was just trying to defend her female friend... And subsequently, being situated between two males who clearly tolerated violence.

Alex ran forward in time- managing to grab Dominic's hand before he thought it could hit Sandy, whether she was his initial target or not. Alex heard her gasp, and Sabina moving to her again, but he trailed his eyes over the situation he didn't even consider if he was involved in or not, any more. Tightening his grip on Dominic's arm, he said in a level voice, "I suggest you wouldn't."

"I didn't mean to..."

"I don't think anybody here cares what you mean," Alex restrained from rolling his eyes. He swung the arm back to Dominic and added, "what's important is that you-"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Daniel catching his breath, ironically holding his nearly finished cigarette in his palm.

Dominic repositioned himself, "Who the hell do you think you-"

"I'm just doing what everybody in this crowd supports- because your behaviour is irrationally inappropriate..." Alex crossed his arms, instincts sparking in him like lightning- he had no doubt that Dominic wouldn't hesitate to hurt him, considering he tried to his friends. "And I'm saying the shit that you should pretend to at least _agree_ with."

"You don't even know-" Dominic tried again, lifting his arms in exasperation.

"I'd suggest that you talk to your _ex-girlfriend_ and you try and sort this out _with her_-"

Alex was cut off as Sandy appeared besides him, pointing a finger at Dominic. "And I swear to god if you somewhat hurt her, I will be there..."

Dominic didn't bother replying back to Alex, he shuttered an exhale and stepped back. Slowly, people in the crowd started stating demands similar to Sandy and Dominic, cheering for Alex's 'heroics.'

"Sandy, you're not even religious," Dominic attempted.

Alex braced himself in case he needed to move again, as Sandy walked to Daniel, her back to Dominic. "We tried helping you," Daniel coughed, whilst exhaling smoke from the cigarette.

Dominic moved forward at the same pace as Alex, towards Daniel. Alex was about to stop the male when Daniel slapped him in the face. It resulted in Dominic pushing him back, into Alex. It was instinct that Alex punched Dominic in what was aimed for the face, but the group's separate moves had prevented that, making his fist reach Dominic's shoulder. Daniel was focused on Alex, like he was abruptly aware of his presence, and worried about his participation. The distraction could've cost him. Alex noticed that Dominic had an opening to really hurt Daniel, but he instead, surprised Alex by merely stealing the cigarette.

Daniel grunted in irritation, his hand now cigarette-empty, had been quickly intertwined with Sandy's hands. "Come on," Alex could hear her whisper to him.

Alex wanted to move backwards, as Sandy and Daniel were clearly ready to evacuate. But it was like his limbs were frozen again, as he watched Dominic say, "you're supposed to be quitting, Daniel."

Despite Dominic waving the cigarette around, Daniel and Sandy started walking the opposite way. They were speaking, but Alex wasn't focusing on them any more.

Even when he felt Sabina grabbing his elbow, his attention was zeroed on Dominic. The crowd had slowly departed, but Dominic hadn't retreated.

As if he felt watched, he angled his shoulder away, twirling the cigarette... Alex felt like this wasn't the first time Dominic had a cigarette between his fingers, so he wondered why Dominic was _now_ stalling.

Edward and Elizabeth had walked towards Sabina, telling her something about directions. When it was just Sabina near him, he glanced at the floor, embarrassed for staring.

"What is he doing?" Sabina whispered.

Hesitately, Alex gazed up again, almost losing sight of Dominic. The male had walked back in the direction of the CD store, placing the cigarette between his lips. He felt like Dominic was aware of Sabina and him staring, because he was gazing everywhere but in their direction. He could see the fire re-igniting at the bud of the cigarette, a dangerous red, that slowly glowed away as Dominic dropped his hand. In fact, Alex could see the line of soft glow as Dominic's hand lowered to his arm, and it was pressed against the bare of his skin.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_

_Ah, an upload so soon! In fact I was inspired to avoid procrastinating in writing this chapter, in celebration. In case you were curious- to what exactly forced me off my ass and _work through this stupid author's block_- it was because I finally, have received my driver's license! It was hard for me to get it because I'd literally be consumed by panic attacks- _but. I. won.

_As I type this author's note, it is actually 6 in the morning. Considering how sleep deprived I am (and that I indeed completed my first term at uni the day before uploading the precious chapter), I am clueless to why I have suddenly just woken up. But to avoid getting out of bed (it's so cold that my fingers are out of the blankets to type and it's a difficult task okay?), I've decided to edit this chapter. _

_Editing is always so hard for me because the more times I read the same thing over and over and over again, it trips me out. Meaning it's hard to keep a flow when all the sentences start fuzzing together and becoming one big familiar chunk of just words, due to overexposure. _

_Which is another reason why I rely on your reviews Xx_


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